Stolen Goods (To Catch a Thief Book 2)

by Kay Marie

  On the way to the door, Jo pulled him into a tight hug. He couldn’t lift his arms to reciprocate. His body was revolting. Nothing worked.

  “Good luck,” she whispered fiercely, knowing exactly how long he’d been waiting for this moment, exactly what it meant to him.

  Thad met Addison’s eyes over Jo’s shoulder. She stood at the other end of the room, shifting her arms as though she didn’t know what to do with them—crossing, uncrossing, tucking her hair behind her ear, dropping both by her sides. But her gaze didn’t wander. It remained firmly planted on him, studying every inch of his face, until the light inside of her eyes dimmed with understanding. Because, somehow, she’d always been able to see right through him.

  Goodbyes were like that sometimes. They didn’t need to be spoken to be felt. The soul splintered in silence. His mother had never said the words. But he’d known, despite the feigned smile on her lips, the assurance she was only going out for groceries. He saw the truth in her eyes when she put her hand to his cheek, and whispered, You look so much like him. She walked out the door and his heart split. He’d known. Which was probably why he’d gone sprinting after her car as it raced down the driveway, too fast for his eight-year-old legs to catch. Jo sat with him outside for hours, until their fathers came home and found them.

  This time, she’d sit with Addison. And if everything went according to plan, he doubted either would bother to chase him.

  Jo pulled back.

  Thad tore his gaze from Addison and followed Parker out the door. The car reeked of the FBI. All black. Tinted windows. The inside was fitted out. There was a police beacon sitting on the windshield. He squirmed when the locks clicked into place. This was the closest he’d ever come to being arrested, even without the handcuffs or a divider separating the front and back rows. They eased off the curb. Thad’s body buzzed as if he’d just chugged a gallon of coffee, jittery and wired. He needed a distraction. Stat.

  “So, you going to make an honest woman out of her, Parker?”

  The Fed cast a slow glance in his direction, but refrained from answering.

  “Jo, I mean,” Thad continued, goaded by the silence. “Because without Robert around, I think it falls on me to make sure she’s treated properly, with respect.”

  A glower appeared on the Fed’s face.

  “Rumor has it you moved in together. I guess the tabloids are good for something. Personally, I think it’s a little quick. Jo tends to get a bit carried away sometimes. I mean, how much do you two really know about each other? After, what has it been—three weeks? Maybe four by now?”

  He gave Parker an opening to speak. The Fed didn’t jump. So, he kept going.

  “Did you know she’s an absolute mess? I mean, honestly, if Robert hadn’t hired that cleaning woman, the house would’ve become a biohazard with all the food she leaves on the counters. Eggshells. Raw batter. Milk.”

  He paused, casting a sidelong glance.

  Still no bite.

  “Her voice could break glass—have you heard her sing? Do yourself a favor, don’t. And the manipulation tactics, don’t even get me started on those. The woman could talk a charging rhino into submission. But if you suggest one thing—”

  “Ryder?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Shut up.”

  Thad grinned. Ah, yes, this is exactly what I needed. “Did I strike a nerve there, Parker?”

  “You are the nerve.” The leather whined as the Fed’s grip on the wheel tightened. He stretched his neck side to side.

  “That hurts,” Thad said with mock seriousness. “And here I thought we were starting to become friends.”

  “Have you ever heard the phrase silence is golden?”

  “Oh, come on, Parker. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together with these trials. It’s time you got used to me.”

  He grumbled something Thad didn’t quite catch and then reached out to turn the radio on. Every time Thad opened his mouth, Parker made the volume louder. By the time they pulled to a stop, his ears had practically started to bleed. But it was worth it, because he’d managed to not think about the enormity of what was about to happen for a whole half an hour. Until the car turned off, the sound blinked out, and Parker left him alone in the vehicle to talk to the agents standing at the end of the drive. Thad told himself not to look, not until the last minute. It would only make things harder. Still, he couldn’t stop his head from shifting, his gaze from searching, his heart from beating against his chest.

  He recognized the house immediately.

  He’d never been there, but he’d spent enough time studying the street view on Google Maps to have the image memorized. It was a Spanish-style house with stucco walls and a terra-cotta roof. Two floors. Five bedrooms. Four and a half bathrooms. Five thousand, three hundred, and forty-two square feet, if the public sales listing had been accurate. It looked like a nice place to live. One mansion among many, on a beautiful street, in a quiet neighborhood, the perfect spot for a happy family. Not that he had any experience with those.

  “Ryder. They’re ready for you inside.”

  Parker waited a moment, then pulled the door open and grabbed him roughly by the arm. Thad was in a daze until they got to the front door. He dug his heels in and forced the Fed to stop. At the sudden sound of half a dozen safeties clicking off, Thad blinked and looked around, surprised to find they were flanked on all sides by other agents. It was a testament to how off-kilter he was that he hadn’t noticed them fall in line behind him.

  “I need a minute,” he said, forcing the words out. Parker waved the agents off, then murmured into his comm. Thad blocked it out and closed his eyes, taking a long, slow breath. He’d been preparing for this day for most of his life. He was ready. He could do this. “Okay.”

  Parker opened the door. Thad followed him inside.

  He recognized her immediately, standing in the front hall with her hand over her lips, eyes wide with shock. Her skin was wrinkled. Her blonde hair had lost its glow. She seemed small, smaller than he remembered, and fragile in a way he’d never imagined. But none of that mattered. You never forget the face of the mother who didn’t want you. He swallowed the thought down and let his gaze slide over her, as though she didn’t matter, as though she were nothing, the same way he’d practiced a thousand times before, careful to keep his face neutral. She didn’t deserve to know he hadn’t gone a day in seventeen years without thinking about her. Let her think he forgot, the same way he knew she’d forgotten him.

  His gaze didn’t stop moving until it landed on a second figure, seated at the dining room table twenty feet away with her hands nervously clenched into fists. Her brown hair was in braided pigtails with white ribbons woven through. She wore a cheerleading outfit. The word go was painted in red lipstick on her left cheek.

  I wonder what the other one says.

  She glanced up as though she’d heard. He sucked in a sharp breath when those gray eyes found his, like a mirror reflecting an image he didn’t quite know how to read. She had their father’s eyes, just like him, but seeing it live instead of on a screen was a different thing entirely.

  Though he’d dreamed of this moment a thousand times and thought of a hundred different greetings, only two words would come. The ones he’d been waiting seventeen years to say. “Hi, Emma.”

  - 24 -

  Addison

  Addy sat on the couch and stared at her phone as it vibrated on the coffee table, the screen lighting up with message after message. While Jo was in the shower, she’d recovered it from Thad’s duffel and put the battery back in. It hadn’t stopped moving ever since. Addy, on the other hand, was frozen—suffering from a severe case of indecision.

  As soon as she picked up her phone, this whole thing, whatever it was, would be well and truly over. She’d seen the goodbye in Thad’s eyes. For him, the page of their little adventure had already turned. But Addy didn’t feel ready to let go—of him, yes, but more so of the person she’d become when she was aro
und him. More confident. More courageous. More like the woman she always imagined she could be in her dreams. It was easy to be that version of herself with a man she never knew in a situation too wild to believe. But could she be her back home? In her small town? With people who’d known her all her life? Or would they laugh at the changes, say it was just a phase, fear she’d lost her mind instead of found it?

  The bathroom door opened.

  Addy grabbed her phone and stuffed it under the couch cushion.

  Out of sight. Out of mind.

  Jo made her way down the hall. Her wet hair was pulled up into a bun. She wore an oversized T-shirt, probably Nate’s, and a pair of worn leggings. Though everything about her said comfort, the way she was biting her lip said something else.

  “So, um… Hi.”

  Addy frowned. Hesitant was not a word she would’ve used to describe the Jo she knew online. “Hi?”

  “It’s just— I mean—” She sighed with a humph, then quickly closed the distance between them. Her friend sat on the couch and launched into a ramble that brought a smile to Addy’s lips—because enthused rambling? That was Jo. “I never meant for us to meet this way. I mean, I don’t know how I hoped we’d meet. I sort of just envisioned you, me, and McKenzie in a kitchen, screaming and hugging and bouncing up and down as the baking gods smiled down on us. I never in a million years thought being friends with me would involve you in, well, this side of my life. And that’s why we never met, because I wanted to wait until I was free, and I could tell you guys the truth, and I wouldn’t have to lie. I hate lying. Hate it. As difficult as that might be to believe, seeing as I’m clearly very good at it. But with you guys, I could always be myself, the person I always wanted to be but never really shared with anyone else. And I was too afraid of losing you if I told you the truth. So, I—”

  “Jo,” Addy interrupted and grabbed her hand. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  And she did. Jo and McKenzie had been the same thing to her—a safe space, where she could be whoever she wanted to be and disclose dreams she was too afraid to share with anyone else. They were the only two people who knew she wanted to open a cake shop of her own. They were the only people who understood her passion and her drive. They were her best friends, and Addy didn’t intend to lose that relationship over one lie, even if it was a bit of a doozy.

  “I was really hoping you’d say that.” Jo released a heavy, thankful breath. A smile widened her lips. “And I know you probably want to call your parents, your sister, your friends, and you probably have a million other things you’d rather be doing, but I was sort of hoping one more thing. Do you, maybe, want to bake?”

  An immediate sense of calm cut through all the tangled knots her indecision had spun.

  “Yes,” Addy said as the relief washed over her. “There is honestly nothing else I want to do more.”

  “Yay!” Jo cheered and jumped to her feet, pulling Addy with her. They crossed the small house in seconds. Jo threw open the cupboards and immediately began pulling ingredients from the shelves, dropping them onto the counter in complete disarray. “After Thad called, I had this feeling I’d need sugar. So I went to the store and bought…everything. I’ve got eggs and butter and flour and chocolate chips and— Oh, Funfetti! I love Funfetti. I mean, who doesn’t? No matter how trained, how gourmet, how fancy you are, you should always have room for Funfetti.” She paused to laugh under her breath. “I bet even McKenzie likes Funfetti, though she’d never say it.”

  “Never,” Addy cut in with a smile. She followed Jo around the kitchen, organizing the supplies into wet ingredients, dry ingredients, or pre-packaged mixes.

  They stepped back, examining their goods.

  “What should we make?” Jo asked, crossing her arms.

  “You mean, you didn’t have a plan in mind when you bought allllll of this?” Addy motioned to the counter and arched a brow.

  “I know, I know, I sort of went kid-in-a-candy-store approach and grabbed whatever I thought we might need. I haven’t been able to focus all day. I can’t stop thinking about Thad, about what he must be going through right now, with his mom, with Emma, I just…” Jo shook her head. “I wish I could be there for him, but I can’t. Agents only. So instead, I bake.”

  “I know.” Addy swallowed and tried to keep her voice even, though her thoughts raced. His mom? Is that who he’s seeing? And Emma? They sounded like two different people? Who is she? But she couldn’t just blurt it out. Not yet.

  “So, what should we make? Actually?”

  An idea popped into Addy’s head. “How about a code brown?”

  “A code brown?” Jo said slowly, turning toward her with a wicked gleam in her eye.

  “A code brown started this whole mess,” Addy offered with a shrug. “Maybe a code brown should finish it.”

  “I like it.”

  “Me too.”

  “Okay!” Jo launched into motion. She never did anything slowly or halfway. Every move was a jump or a jolt. Every word was loud and excited. Every expression or gesture was felt fully. She was infectious. With each word, Jo’s energy sank a little deeper into Addy’s skin, easing the pressure and the pain and the worry, until she felt a little freer. “I don’t have any firm recipes for this one yet, so let’s have fun. See where our minds take us. You work on the pie crust and the cocoa glaze, and I’ll work on the chocolate ganache and the brownies.”

  Addy started with the pie crust since it would have to chill. Normally, she preferred an all-butter crust, but without her beloved KitchenAid by her side, she decided to go the slightly easier route, grabbing both butter and shortening from the supplies. Jo slid the flour across the counter. Addy handed her eggs from the fridge. They continued like that for a little while, passing items back and forth in seamless silence. She pulsed her dry and wet ingredients with a hand-mixer, carefully adding ice water into the dough with a smile on her lips. The smell of sugar, the sound of whisking, just being in a kitchen was restorative. Addy could breathe again, think again. Her mind was clear, focused.

  Maybe that was why she found the gusto to casually murmur, “So, how do you think things are going with Thad and his mom?”

  Jo took the bait immediately. “Ugh, I don’t know but I wish I did.” She whipped her whisk through the brownie mix with a little more force than necessary. “He never talks about her, at least not with me. I think he was always determined not to care about her, because of what she did, cutting him out of her life like that, but I almost think the stubborn way he refused to talk about her just made her leaving hurt even more, you know?”

  “Definitely,” Addy commented softly, to keep Jo talking.

  “Did he tell you how she left?” Jo asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Thad was eight and I was seven. Our dads were gone, doing what they did, and I was at Thad’s playing—well, more like tormenting him incessantly, but that’s a different story. She called us down from his room and said she was going food shopping. I shrugged it off, but Thad’s face fell, like somehow he knew. And when she walked out the door, he froze. I tried to pull him back upstairs, but he was already bigger and he wouldn’t budge. As soon as he heard the car start, he took off, yanking open the door and running down the driveway after her. I followed, yelling for him to stop, but he didn’t, not until he tripped in the gravel and fell, cutting his forehead on a rock. When I looked into his eyes, I finally understood. So, I sat down, and hugged him, and let his blood and his tears soak my shirt through. We were out there for hours until our dads found us, stiff and shivering. I’ll never forget that day. It was just, oh, it was the worst. I never experienced anything so awful until my mom passed away, but at least she was taken from me. She didn’t leave voluntarily, and she didn’t take my only sibling with her.”

  “Emma,” Addy gasped. His sister. Emma is his sister. She immediately felt silly and guilty for all the time she’d spent wondering who this mysterious woman could be, dreaming up the most ridiculous scenarios, when the truth was s
o simple. A painful, personal secret he’d had no reason to disclose.

  “Emma.” Jo nodded.

  Addy wanted to tell her to stop, that she shouldn’t know any more, that Thad had never actually divulged this information. But for better or worse, her own curiosity was a beast she couldn’t tame. Her lips remained sealed as she gently kneaded the pie dough, preparing it for the fridge.

  Jo buttered a baking dish and pushed on. “My heart broke for him. He’d been so excited, none of that first-child stuff. Maybe because we were already so old, maybe because Emma was a surprise, I don’t know. But as soon as he found out his mom was pregnant, he couldn’t wait to be an older brother. We were learning to read in school, so sometimes at night, he’d read to his mom’s stomach. And whenever we were out, he was so proud he’d tell everyone about his baby sister on the way. He drew pictures for her nursery. He picked the name Emma, actually. I don’t remember how or why, but I remember we were both shocked when we found out years later his mom had stuck with it.”

  Addy put her dough in the fridge, carefully bundled in Saran wrap, and started pulling ingredients for the glaze—chocolate chips, butter, corn syrup, and a little bit of vanilla extract. “How did you find out?”

  “We didn’t know anything for years and years. She was seven months along when she left, so what happened to the baby became a complete mystery. Thad’s dad might have known. I’m sure he probably knew a lot of things that would’ve helped Thad cope, but he was always more of a tough-love sort of guy.”

  Jo shook her head derisively and slammed the oven shut.

  Addy jolted at the sound.

  “Sorry.” Jo sighed as her shoulders slumped. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms, watching Addy, yet not. Her eyes were glazed over and vacant, as though seeing something else. “He was, well, a jerk, though he fooled a lot of people into thinking he was anything but, including Thad for a long time. He used to idolize his father, until, well— Anyway, we’re talking about Emma. I started getting into computers when I was a teenager, a little light hacking, nothing serious.”